A Matter Of Life Or Death: The 73rd Hunger Games
by TheMortalDivergentGames
Summary: Welcome to the 73rd Hunger Games. I hope you enjoy your visit. How would you like to be killed? Mutt? Knife? Speared? Or would you like to live? If you do... May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favour. Seneca Crane has been appointed as Head Gamemaker, and he has made the arena even harder, even tougher. You need luck to survive the 73rd Annual Hunger Games. *SYOT*
1. Prequel: The Gamemakers

**From lots of persuasion from my dear friend, Writergirl64, I am start a SYOT! I am mega excited. This is the prequel, and the instructions are down at the bottom.**

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President Snow paced the hallways. He was anxiously awaiting the news of the arena. The doors suddenly flung open and Rosalynn Monroe, the head gamemaker, ran down the hallway, panting.

"Finally! Where were you? I've been waiting for ages!" Sighed the president, dabbing himself with a pocket hankie.

"Sorry sir, we were just checking the arena over again."

Coriolanus nodded and smirked. "Is it all perfect?"

Rosalynn replied. "It is indeed!"

The president laughs. "Show me what it is this year then."

Rosalynn released a deep breath and opened a map she was holding. She placed it on a nearby table and signalled the president to look.

"It is a-"she began, but was cut off by her deputy gamemaker, Seneca Crane. He ran down the hallway and stopped in front of Rosalynn

"Stop!" he cried. Rosalynn raised her eyebrows.

"What?" She hissed quietly.

"We can't do that arena!" he whispered, ignoring the president peeking over Rosalynn's shoulders.

"Why not?" she spat, steering his shoulders to the entrance.

"We tried out the mutations, and they die straight away when they touch the ground!"

Rosalynn stood gobsmacked before she spoke up. "Can you not just alter the ground? Or protect the mutts?"

Seneca shook his head slowly.

"Rosalynn? I do believe you have an area to show me?" The president smirked, hearing the conversation. Rosalynn glared daggers at Seneca and slowly headed back over to Coriolanus.

"Uh, well, we have discovered some technical difficulties with the, uh, arena." She mumbles.

"Oh dear Rosalynn, you said it was perfect!" The president's eyes narrowed.

"I did, but-"

"You promised me it would be on time!" he raised his voice.

Rosalynn looked to Seneca, panicking. Seneca slowly backed out of the room, until the president stopped him.

"You! Come here."

Seneca turned around, wondering if it was him he was talking to, and then pointed to himself.

The president rolled his eyes. "Yes you."

Rosalynn stepped out of the way as Seneca stepped forward.

"Next year, I want you to be the head gamemaker."

The news had just began to sink in when Rosalynn stumbled forwards, desperate to change his mind.

"Wait! No, I can sort this!" she begged, jumping in front of Seneca.

"My decision is final." He nodded.

"You…You... You jerk!" she screamed, but instantly rejected it, as his eyes flashed with anger.

"In fact, Seneca, be the head gamemaker this year as well! If you impress me this year, you can be it next year for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. Agreed?"

Rosalynn gawped, and ran away.

Seneca slowly nodded, and shot a quick glance at Rosalynn who was gripping the table, looking down at her hands and turning red.

"And for her, I'll decide later." He added.

Rosalynn growled in frustration and she headed down the hallway, and stormed out into the gamemakers room.

Seneca looked for President Snow, who had seemed to disappeared.

"I gotta do good, I gotta do good." He recited, picking up the discarded map left on the table and scanned it over.

"Well maybe I can change the mutts, I definitely don't want it like that! Maybe the surroundings, so then it matches." he mumbled to himself. Secretly, the president watched from behind a wall.

"I like him Desiree, don't you agree." He whispered to his 7 year old granddaughter

She nodded silently, peering out from behind her grandfather.

Seneca headed back to the gamemakers room, where he found Rosalynn sulking in the corner, ignoring all of the other gamemakers. As soon as he entered, he was bombarded with comments.

"What's happened?"

"Why won't she talk to us?"

"Why is she shuddering at the mention of the president?"

"Why has she thrown her 'Head Gamemaker' badge across the room?"

Seneca lifted his head. "Where is the badge?"

Poppy Washington, a member of the gamemakers, pointed to the opposite corner where a tiny badge lay upside down. Seneca pushed through the crowd and went over to pick it up. Rosalynn slowly turned her head to see what he was going to do. Gradually, Seneca picks it up and rolls it in his hand, and then pins it to his shirt. Gasps are heard from the crowd, and Poppy steps forward and says;

"You can't wear that! You're not the head gamemaker!"

"He is actually." Rosalynn said, her voice quavering.

"Why?" Poppy asks confused.

"The President said so." She mumbled. "Listen to him."

Seneca smiles at her and she replies weakly.

"Ok guys. This is what we are going to do."

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**Okay, I know this isn't very long, but I just needed a prequel. This is a SYOT, and the tribute list and template is on my profile. Please PM me your tributes, not through reviews, I repeat PM ME WITH YOUR TRIBUTES!, I'm going to put a poll up on my profile and please could you vote for your favourite arena. Thanks! Please submit! Read and Review! :) **


	2. Prequel: The Finished Arena

** A/N: Hey! Just a great big thank you to everyone who submitted, and who voted on the poll. This chapter we learn what arena it is. Enjoy.**

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"Done!" Seneca sighed happily, as he pressed the button which saved everything. The arena was done, and had to be in an even shorter time, due to Rosalynn's arena. Luckily, he was on the good side of President Snow, who delayed the games to a week later. He had 2 more days to finish it, as Sunday was the reapings.

He slunk back into his chair and spun around, relaxing for the first time in weeks. Suddenly, President Snow burst into the room and stood by the door.

"Where is the arena?"

Seneca jumped up unsteadily, and he stumbled over to a button which projected the whole arena in the air. When he pressed the button, it lit up the room. President Snow nodded, and he circled it, pressing buttons which activated mutts and rocks to fall. When he had completed his circle, he coughed into his hankie and said.

"I like it; you did a good job Seneca."

The President shook Seneca's hand and walked out of the room. At first, it all fell silent, but then, cheering, laughter and dancing exploded into the room, everybody taking part, even Rosalynn, as they were celebrated the acceptation and approval of the arena. When they had all calmed down, Seneca pressed a button which sends the arena over to their headquarters in the mentor's room.

"Where did it go?" Poppy shrieked, setting off lots of cries.

"The room where we are in now was just to create the arena; the one in the mentor's room, which we are going to, controls it."

"Will it be slap bang in the middle of the room?" Poppy asked.

"What kind of question is that? And no, it will be in its own room just next to the District 1 Station."

Poppy nodded. "When are we going over there?"

Seneca started to tidy up his mess. "Next week, a day before the games start. Just too double check everything."

"I can't wait for the games!" Poppy squealed.

"Me too!" Poppy's friend, Minnie, agreed.

Seneca smiled at his gamemakers. He was excited for the games too, especially now his arena was where all of the tributes were going to fight to the death. He pulled up the map of Panem on his computer and started to organize the transportation. Rosalynn forgot to do it, so he had to quickly book the luxurious, high speed trains for the tributes to board. They had to get here somehow.

He ordered 12, and typed in the details of where they would have to go. As the gamemakers pulled out the secret stash of champagne and alcohol they kept for the long, frustrated nights of working they all do, Seneca gets down to business on the games.

He picks up his list and ticks the things he has done. The last thing he has on his list is 'Hire an Escort'

Seneca groans, as he hides his head in his hands. In the previous years, Rosalynn made him pick the escort and she hasn't been happy for any. Only last year she was happy with the District 12 Escort, Effie Trinket.

"I'm hiring her again." He muttered, typing away on his keyboard. He then stopped, remembering he was in charge, and he could choose who he liked, to the President's approval.

He shrugged. "Oh well, the president was happy with her also."

Clicking onto Panemchrome, there was a loud squeal coming from behind him. He spun round in alarm to see Poppy, Rosalynn and Minnie lying on the floor, laughing hysterically with champagne surrounding them.

"What are you doing?" Seneca hissed, leaping out of his chair. "You could get yourself, and me, FIRED!"

Rosalynn laughed. "Look who is getting all feisty."

Poppy clutched onto her stomach, whilst Minnie turned over onto her stomach and flailed her legs around.

"You're all drunk! Get up and go home." He sighed, dragging the three girls up from the floor. Suddenly, Rosalynn dashed over to the corner of the room and vomited.

Seneca looked away as she continued. When she finished, he shouted over his shoulders.

"Everybody, just go home. Take it as a celebration."

Shooing everybody out of the room, he cleaned up the sick, trying not to inhale the dreadful scent. When he had finished, he went back over to his computer and booked all of the tributes. Out of nowhere, someone knocked on the door. He heaved himself out of his chair and opened the door.

There stood Caesar Flickerman.

"Hello Seneca."

"Hello Caesar." sighed Seneca.

"Oh dear, what is the matter?" Caesar said, walking into the room.

Shutting the door, Seneca replied. "It has been a hectic day."

"I could imagine!" he chuckles, walking over to the chair in the corner of the room.

"You might not want to sit there." Mumbled Seneca.

"Why not?" Caesar paused in mid-air.

"Someone has been sick down there. A bit overboard with the celebrations." He rolled his eyes, perching on a workstation

Caesar leaped away from the seat, and dusted himself off.

"Why are you here then?" Seneca asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I have come to interview you. I'm afraid my studio is having some adjustments, so I have to interview here."

Seneca nodded. "About what?"

Caesar chuckled. "About you being the head gamemaker silly!"

Seneca scratched his head. "Alright then. I do like your hair this year Caesar."

Caesar smiled. "Thank you, I think Crimson does represent the tributes."

They got to work on the interview as soon as the camera man came in. Caesar asked him all about his new job, and he replied, explaining all of the details.

"So, what actually happened at the scene?" Caesar asked intrigued

Seneca fiddled with his thumbs. "Well, Rosalynn was just about to tell the president about the arena when I ran in and told her to stop."

"Yes, continue."

"I told her that she couldn't use that arena and she asked why. I told her we tested out the mutts and they just died as soon as they touched the ground. The other gamemakers and tried to alter both of them, but they would just delete themselves. She said can we change them, but I shook my head." Seneca babbles.

Caesar nods, signalling the camera man to come closer.

"That's when the president started to-"he paused, being careful what he said.

"What did he do?" Caesar asks.

"He told her that he was expecting it then." He smiles, breathing out. "That's when he called me over and told me I was going to be head gamemaker, next year."

"What happened for you to be it this year?"

"She shouted at him and he decided to let me be it this year." He finished.

"Thank you for that. Now, this is only broadcasted to the Capitol, so please could you tell us what the arena is?"

Seneca pauses, and says. "It's going to be water. A water arena."

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**Done! Once again, thank you everyone! Keep submitting, it's a great help! Read and Review**


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